how can a year go so quickly?

I genuinely thought that after madam went to school full time I would get more chance to blog and maybe I would be able to make my blog something really interesting... But no. I seem to neglect it for days on end now.

 

This, I suppose is in part due to just how busy life seems to have become, what with starting to do actual job hunting type activities. But also I think because I am becoming more well in myself.

 

The whole reason I even began to blog was because of my depression and how it was affecting me. I felt like I was hiding from the world and needed somewhere that I could express myself and begin to feel more normal again. And I think it has really helped me. I have learned to be able to look at myself in a different way.

 

But do you know what has really helped? Twitter. Yes, that's right, the worlds favourite micro-blogging site (WTF *does* that mean? It's a chat room for crying out loud...). But over the last year I have met and befriended so many people who show me nothing but kindness and encouragement. Supporting all my endeavours and just generally being lovely. It's the community I always wanted to live in, full of like-minded souls.

 

Obviously, my lovely friends who I have known for years have all been a massive part of it too. But Twitter even comes into that too. We are now more capable of staying in touch than we ever have been before, and we can talk as a group which is *almost* as good as having them all there together.

 

 

It is just over a year since I first came out as being depressed. I had struggled alone for quite some time before then. I am amazed at the difference a year can make. At about this point last year I was sitting crying, almost uncontrollably, in a café. My lovely friend picked me and madam up and brought us to her house for tea. I still can't thank her enough for how much that meant to me.

But now, although my demons aren't all defeated, I'm so much happier. My feelings of being overwhelmed all the time have subsided. I am finding I have some of my confidence back. I have applied for a couple of jobs (sadly, not successfully) and I think I can fight my own corner a bit more.

My beautiful, crazy, cheeky little girl has just turned 5 and I feel like a new start is upon us. I have started making the proper moves to go back to my maiden name. I am determined to draw a line under the end of my relationship. I *finally* have lost those feelings for him that were making that so hard.

I will always care about him. But as the father of my child not a partner. I finally feel free of him. And having my real name, as it were, is going to be a part of that. I feel like, with this blog, I have spent a lot of time giving you progress reports. And having to really think about me, who I am, how things have changed has done me no end of good.

I think that now I am here this blog is starting to go in another different direction. It will always be a place for me to think things through, and for me to ask questions I feel I need to, but mostly it's becoming a crafting type blog! I have another finished project for you to see, but I'll just finish this bit first...

I am so thankful for all your support. Thank you for helping me realise that life is sometimes shit, but always worth it. Thank you for being there, I hope if you ever need me I can be there for you. Thank you to whoever it was who invented Twitter and for it giving me a space to meet people who are just like me, only different and wonderful all at the same time.

(This is a really big, aww, you guys *group hug* type of post!)

So, project! I have crocheted a new hat for myself (I may need to do one for a couple of other people too (that would be one each, not to share!)). The pattern came from Ravelry. If you're into knitting/crochet it is a great site to sign up to... So many patterns!

The pattern I used was one of the free ones that is available. It's called Polar Hat and is by Pippa Wilson. It comes from her blog and you can find it here if you're interested. It's a really quick make, I made it in an evening. It uses chunky weight yarn and an 8mm hook. Her version is a rather fabulous orange, but I chose a James C. Brett marble in shades of purple for mine.

And here it is:

wow, cheesy grin or what!

It has a very small brim that gives it that bit more interest than a beanie. I made mine very slightly bigger as I have a big head! I would imagine that her design would fit almost everyone else though...

Whaddya think?  



biblical unicorns

source: http://www.awomensclub.com/free-online-unicorn-colouring-page.php

 

I was at church this morning. It's the first time we've been since the start of summer as there is no Sunday school in the holidays and we've been otherwise occupied (wedding, hospital) since school has restarted. 

 

It was nice to be back and to chat with our friends there. One of the men that has been helping with the Sunday school has decided to go to theology college and become a fully fledged youth minister so he was telling us about how he made the decision and why. It was nice to be able to hear someone speak so passionately about something that they obviously care deeply about.

 

We sang a few hymns and one in particular resonated with me. After A had told us about how he heard his "calling" we sang a song about responding to the Lords call. Now, I'm not a majorly religious person, but for some reason the chorus made me cry. I am capable of crying over adverts and The Simpsons, so it's not particularly unusual for me. But it made me wonder again about my own faith.

 

I keep wondering what it is that drives me to go to church every week when I don't claim to be a religious person. Part of it is to do with the sense of community and belonging that I get from it. Important for someone who regularly feels lonely. I also know that people notice if I'm not there. I am often stopped in the street and people always ask after madam.

 

When we were in hospital last week I text one of the ladies who works on the family support team to ask her to put madam in the prayers for that week. She not only did that but also arranged for a wee present for madam to be posted through our door that was waiting for us when we got home. Its this level of thoughtfulness and caring that constantly surprises me. And then I think, why should it?

 

This is a church, this is what it is meant to do. Look after the members of its community, visit the sick and the elderly, be a family for those who need one. And I have never felt that so much from a church as I do from this one. I only really went back to church when I was pregnant with madam. I had always gone at Christmas as I love the whole shebang, the carols, the decorations, the sense of hope in the air.

 

But when I was pregnant I began to see myself in a different way. I realised just how incredible humans are (well, all animals really). I had very little input on what was going on inside me, it just went into autopilot and did it itself. I can see why some people may go the other way at this point and see it as proof of there being no God etc.

 

I guess it comes down to how I interpret the religious teachings I received in my youth. I, like madam, went to Sunday school every week until I was about 10. I was told all the bible stories and I paid very little heed to them. And then when we started to study science at school I was even more dubious about what religion had told me. I was as disinterested in church as pretty much every other teenager I know. The few services that I was made to go to seemed to be extremely long and very tedious.

 

What changed was when I became older still and learnt about our ancient storytelling traditions. How all our histories were told as stories. How they must have been made to be interesting so that people would listen and how they had messages and told truths.

 

I don't for a moment believe the world was made in 6 days, I pretty much haven't since I learnt about evolution. But the people who wrote the bible (and especially the very first parts of it) didn't know about it. And how do you explain to the uneducated masses about how it all came together. You make it simple, you make it understandable. You set it out in easy chunks. And no, of course there are no dinosaurs in the bible, no-one had ever heard of them.

 

There are unicorns though. Really. And they are mentioned on about 5 different occasions. For example: Isaiah 34:7 "And the unicorns shall come down with them, and the bullocks with the bulls; and their land shall be soaked with blood, and their dust made fat with fatness."

 

Yeah, so the bible is totes accurate and should be taken completely at face value. Give me a break! Its the people who insist upon it that need help! And we don't even have all of it. There are many more parts of it that have been deemed unsuitable by the Vatican. Why? Surely adding in as much as possible would help us to understand our religion more.

 

If you've ever watched the film "Stigmata" you'll have heard of the Gospel of Thomas. This is alleged to be Jesus' own words recorded by Didymos Judas Thomas. They make interesting reading, and if you are interested I've put a link here. The quote that the film made famous is actually from two separate parts of the scroll, so don't expect to find it verbatim!

 

I'm not sure I can explain why the church has come back into my life. It's an appreciation of a higher power (whatever that may be) and my need to feel that someone and something is watching over me. I know how much of a miracle a body can perform, I have held my new born child in my arms. And all I could think was how did I make something so amazing without even thinking about it! I have a feeling, someone else helped.

 

I know that a lot of people reading this might have no faith, so I apologise if this was all irrelevant to you. I know my belief is only mine. And I am just happy to have found it and that it brings me comfort in the dark places. If you want to challenge me or ask me questions you are, as always, welcome to. (but be nice or I won't answer! ;P)  

 

  

a review of my life now

a laptop and a coffee cooler, this bloggers essentials (though I only get to drink those when I have enough money!)

 

 

Today is post number 150. Its been making me think about how much this blog has changed since I started it. I started initially in the midst of a depression. I was unhappy and feeling so low and quite worthless. I was living in the most awful mess and worrying constantly about it.

 

I was facing some horrible truths about my life and self and I just didn't know where to start or how I would cope. But I have been doing. And though my problems are still not completely fixed and my house is still something I battle with, I feel much more in control of my life again.

 

The blog has become less about deep and meaningful thoughts and more about things that I have enjoyed. And I'm proud of that. Proud of where I have come from and that somehow (with a lot of help from my lovely friends and family) I seem to be getting my life back on track. I can now start planning the next phase of my life. Because I seem to have been on pause for a rather long time.

 

It also seems to have become somewhere for me to share my various craft projects and current obsessions. (Don't forget, I have a book on Celtic Crafts to get through :)).

 

Currently, madam and I are watching Lilo and Stitch on a daily basis and madam asked me yesterday whether her family is broken, I had to tell her that, yes, it is.

 

 

But I told her that really family is about the people who love you and who care about you. And I told her that she had so many people who loved her very much that she was going to wish it was smaller soon enough!

 

And we are going to be ok. The separation we had from K for all the years he was in America was very different from how the situation is now. But we're moving forward. And the more I find myself again, the less he bothers me. I have always known it was his loss that madam and I were his cast-offs, but it was hard to remember sometimes when we were having a particularly bad day.

 

But many things have changed. Madam has grown so much in the last year at school (and not just upwards). She is still as insanely annoying as she ever was, but she is much more able to apply herself to a task and she's learned to show her compassionate side more often.

 

She still has her insatiable curiosity and her complete inability to listen to a word I say...

 

And once she is at full time school come September another new phase of our life will start. I will have to be much more aggressive about looking for work and more realistic about where my life is really going. We still may or may not be moving house at some point (the court case has still not come up). But I am not as afraid about it. I feel more like I will cope with it, whatever happens.

 

I am not as out-of-control as I was. And I have been off my medication for a while without bad things happening to me! I am starting to be able to look forward to where my life might go rather than being afraid of the unknown...    

 



peanut butter and fairies

*This post now has all the photos I had planned it to have*

Firstly, some apologies... I haven't written anything all week as madam is now on holidays and I can't go to my usual haunts for free wifi. Well, I can, but it wouldn't be as easy to achieve as usual. I have got lots of things to write about today but have forgotten my phone so I can't post the photos :(

 

I shall have to post them another day... though I might be able to lift a couple from where I've posted them on other sites...

 

So, I made the salted caramel peanut butter bars from essbeevee's blog and it was great fun. I found some of the initial mixing a bit hard going with a spoon so in the end went for the tried and tested "just shove your hands in" technique. And then squished it all in to a big disposable tin thing. The big tin could have done with being bigger. This recipe makes a huge amount...

 

Then I made the caramel and poured that over. At which point I *really* wished my tin was bigger, it didn't overflow or anything but I was a little wary of what would happen when we poured the chocolate on... I had promised madam faithfully that she could do the chocolate and sprinkles so I put what I'd made into the fridge and licked out the bowls before doing the washing up.

 

In the morning I was going to meet my dad at 9.45 as I was heading for a gym induction and he was having madam for me so chocolate melting/pouring/sprinkling was being done whilst also making breakfast for us both. And it was a lot of chocolate! My, this really is a great treat recipe.

 

 

After it was topped and sprinkled it went back in the fridge to set and to await the arrival of my sewing buddies in the evening.

 

Although madam and I did have a sneaky taste test in the afternoon, you know, just to make sure...

 

I ended up having a rather frustrating afternoon as I had planned time to do some more tidying, get dinner sorted, and do some pattern cutting. But I ended up stuck waiting for the gasman to come round and service my parents appliances. :( We were late getting home and therefore all my plan went out the window. I ended up throwing out my ideas for the pattern I was going to sew and decided to just make the a fairy skirt for madam.

 

She is really excited about her competition and I really enjoyed making her skirt. It was a good job we had three pairs of hands to hold and pin the fabric as that was the only complicated bit. But more importantly it was really nice to have the girls round and we had a great chat. I also learned how to do a French seam.

 

 

Madam was awake the entire time as she is too nosy for her own good! She also insisted on modelling her outfit after everyone had left before she would go to bed!

 

  

 

The fabulous Tabatha also brought me a lovely goody bag of sewing stuffs including some pinking shears! I am so grateful to her, she really is like a little sewing fairy being so kind and helpful to me.

 

I will be attempting to make some wings to go with madams costume once I have acquired more net... I'm planning on cutting out wing shapes from the net and just sewing them on to the vest top madam is going to be wearing...

 

 

learning new skills is fun

Last night was sewing night! And if it weren't for the fact it'd be really inconvenient I'd love my friend to come round every time I sew. I think we both agreed that extra hands made ironing hems easier!

 

The fabric I'd chosen to use was vetoed by madam and she selected some other stuff I happened to have, and to be honest it probably worked better as some of the print was navy the same as the t-shirt we were sewing it to.

 

We started off by me learning how to wind a bobbin, insert it, and thread the machine. All less complex than it looked. We did have a moment where we had to figure out how to adjust the tension of the bobbin, but we achieved it without too much trouble.

 

I was taught how to do the seams and then I learnt how to do the stitches for gathering. It was great to have someone next to me with much more experience giving me tips. Although I have machine sewn before I've never felt as confident doing it. And I am quite confident that I could do the same again without too much swearing!

 

I was really pleased with how the machine performed given how long it has been out of use. It was a bit wobbly when threading the bobbin, and it needs a bit of a wiggle when you've finished sewing to free your work, but really, that's not too difficult to manage!

 

Madam is completely thrilled with her new dress and has been telling anyone who will listen that her mummy made it for her. Nice to know she's appreciative of what I did for her... 

 

 

 

From top: Madam being madam; rose gelato for me; melon sorbet ftw; Madam and her jelly shoes (cause it's summer); beautiful roses from Tabatha; madam pulling a very strange expression whilst modelling her new dress 

Crafty goodness is for everyone

 

 

I am quite looking forward to this evening. Tabatha Tweedie from the threadcarefully blog is coming over to help me with one of my t-shirt projects for madam. I have seen a pattern to turn a t-shirt into a dress by attaching a gathered skirt which I mentioned in a post a while ago. As I am a bit of a novice with the sewing machine she's coming to give me guidance :)

 

This is great as it's been a while since I've seen her and we can have a nice catch up too... Whether I'll get madam to leave us alone is an entirely different matter! Technically she'll be in bed, but I can see her nosiness getting her in trouble!

 

I really want to get more confident with my sewing machine and I really would like to make myself (and madam) some clothes. I have fallen in love with some amazing fabrics and am resolutely not buying them until I can use them properly. I really wish I had paid more attention in my textiles class at school, but I wasn't interested and I'm pretty sure even the best teacher in the world can't make a teenager do the things they're not excited by.

 

But since I've been getting more into the craft side of myself, this ability to use a sewing machine (or not) has become more important to me. I find it quite funny that there a so many people out there writing off the crafting skills and claiming they'll die out when most of the people I know can do something.

 

And I plan on passing on the skills to madam if she's interested.

 

Crafting is such a good hobby too, I have found that anyone who is into craft tends to be really keen to share their skills and that makes it a really friendly community. And everyone can do something. My friend was discussing her tactile art on her blog the other day. It looks like she had a lot of fun with her projects.

 

And even my Guides, who always claim to not like craft spent the whole of our last session gluing and sticking without any complaints at all. Madam of course, needs no persuasion to pick up a paintbrush/gluestick/glitter and get messy.

 

Maybe I should focus on craft as a career!    

tiredness can kill, take a break

 

 

I'm tired. Not just a bit sleepy, but suddenly and hugely exhausted. I think it's the weekend and everything that happened catching up with me. I knew it would happen, but I wasn't sure what form it would take. I'm quite glad I'm not just a weepy mess for a change!

 

But I am feeling too tired to think of witty and enlightening things to tell you. I would like to say how great the support I've had from everybody about this weekend has been. My Guider rang last night to check how madam was doing and all of Twitter and Facebook is awash with people giving me and madam lots of love.

 

It's so nice to be reminded of all the good things in the world sometimes.

 

So for today, just whilst I go away and sleep for a bit to try and recharge before I have to deal with madam's energy levels later, I shall bid you adieu!

in which madam gets surgery!

 

 

*warning: this post has some gruesome pictures in it*

 

Well, the last couple of days have been a lot more hectic than anyone could have anticipated. I went off to guides on Friday night with my shiny new leadership pack and a whole load of shoe boxes (you know, for the guides who don't like crafts).

 

The guides had more fun than anticipated sticking bits of tissue paper onto boxes and decorating them with various stickers and things. But they don't like crafts. In fact they got so involved we were over-running given we had 3 promise ceremonies to get through.

 

Now madam was with me as I can't leave her on her own and she was sticking things on her own box and generally joining in really well, but promise ceremonies are boring if you're 4 and you don't get to be in them. She did start off trying to help me give out the new neckers, but it didn't go too well...

 

So she went out of the hall to play in the foyer whilst we finished off and packed up. She found the tombola that the school had been using for their summer fair earlier in the afternoon and was happily spinning it and being out the way and quiet.

 

And then suddenly she wasn't.

 

She came racing back into the hall saying she'd hurt her finger and I could see it was bleeding and she was obviously in pain. I took her into the toilets to rinse it under the tap and wrap it up a bit. I brought her back in the hall and had a look at what she'd done and had that instant realisation that we would need to take her to A&E because if nothing else it looked like she'd need stitches.

 

The caretaker went to get her some ice to try and numb it a bit for her and then we had to get a lift from my guide leader because I'm still car-less at the moment. This is complicated by the fact that she is in a wheelchair so she has all her stuff on the back seat so she can get the chair in and out the boot easily. So after some re-jigging of stuff we set off for the local MIU/Out-of-Hours service.

 

Sadly, the Doctor who was there said there was nothing he could really do and it would definitely need an x-ray and as there wouldn't be x-ray services there until Monday we'd have to take her through to Hull Royal. On a Friday night. This did not fill us with warm fuzzies, I can tell you. However, I was wrong. We got there to find that we were in the new improved children's A&E section. There were toys everywhere, Shrek 2 on the TV and it was open and bright and completely non-scary.

 

And after a good long wait we were called through and the Doctor sent us for an x-ray. Now this bit, for some reason, was really frightening madam and she was not keen. But she was brilliant, sat really still and did exactly what the Radiographer asked her to (why, why does she not behave like that for me!) and got a sticker at the end of it. They asked us to wait outside for her pictures to come through and then came and gave me the reference form we needed to take back to the Doctor. At which point madam demanded to be allowed to see her special pictures! The Radiographer decided that as it was really late and she'd been so good that that would be ok! So we got a sneak peek and madam was thoroughly fascinated to see inside her hand...

 

The Doctor said that he didn't see a break but that the plastic surgery consultant wanted to have a quick look and would schedule us an appointment. Now I, foolishly, presumed this appointment would be on Monday. I was wrong, she had a look and then asked us to come back tomorrow morning at 9am and could we just wait here to be bandaged and thank you very much. I'm afraid I had a bit of an ungrateful reaction at this news.

 

I have no car at the moment! You want me to come back first thing tomorrow, we're not even from Hull... Consultant said it didn't have to be exactly 9 and did I really have another choice. Obviously, I hadn't meant that we wouldn't come, it was more that it was already gone midnight and I was going to have to spend a fortune getting a taxi home, then pay out for the bus in the morning, and I didn't even know if there would be one to get us there on time.

 

I kind of said no, of course we would be there and that as long as no-one expected us bang on time, we'd be there. We then had another half an hours wait before someone had time to do bandaging and we got a lovely student Nurse who chatted away with madam about nursery and guessed which big school she was going to.

 

This was good as madam was suddenly very afraid that being bandaged would hurt her poor, mangled, bruised finger. But it obviously was ok as she didn't even flinch. And then it was finally home time. Managed to get some cash out and rang a taxi, got home at just after 1am and put madam and myself to bed. She fell asleep straight away but I was wide awake. Until at least 2.30, and then the alarm went off. Ugh.

 

I hit snooze until we absolutely had to get up or miss the bus that I'd managed to look up for us. So we got dressed and came straight out. Having no breakfast as I thought we'd be quite quick and then get something (McDonalds is what I'd promised). I was very glad of that when the Plastic Surgeon said she'd need an op and when did she last eat or drink. The fact we hadn't had anything since the night before meant they would schedule us for as soon as possible that day.

 

a close up of the poor, poorly finger

 

a smiley face to show the surgeon which finger!

 

 

They found her a bed, got her changed into a gown and then we just had to wait. And wait. And then wait a bit more. The hardest thing was how often madam asked for a drink. It felt so mean not letting her have one, but I didn't need us to be rescheduled if I could help it! At about 2 o'clock it was finally time and she went downstairs for her op. They took her into the theatre and I helped to distract her whilst they inserted what they called her butterfly.

 

As soon as she saw it in the back of her hand, she freaked. She was really afraid of what was about to happen and this thing in her hand was just too much. I have to say the Nurses and the Anaesthetician were, again, incredibly good with her and did manage to distract her enough to get her to start breathing the gas whilst they put things in her "butterfly". They made her try and blow up the balloon and obviously that meant she took some good deep breaths and went under in no time. All I could do was give her a kiss on the cheek and leave her in the very capable hands of the Surgeon and his team.

 

I teared up as the Nurse led me to the waiting area because although I knew she'd be fine, it's awful to be so out of control of what's happening to her. I'm actually tearing up again just thinking about how it felt. She was so distressed and suddenly so, so small and I had to leave her. Ugh, horrible. Heartbreaking. I am so glad that it was only a finger and nothing too serious.

 

I sat waiting for about an hour. I really wish I could have sat somewhere completely on my own as having to listen to other people chatting away without a care in the world, including the woman who was discussing her night out in an almost blow-by-blow account even though she didn't want to be indiscreet, was really annoying me. Too many emotions going on to be having to listen to other people...

 

And at about 3 they called me back to come and see her in recovery. She was not a happy bunny and was wailing and asking to go home. But obviously, that wasn't going to happen immediately. She also kept asking to have the "butterfly" taken away.

 

I was a bit surprised at the size of the bandage she was now sporting. She had damaged the tip of her right index finger, I was thinking possibly that they'd strap the middle finger up as well, but her whole hand was swathed in bandages and strapping, except for her thumb.

 

enormous bandage, picture was taken after we'd got home as my phone died whilst we were at the hospital!

 

 

So after returning to the ward and finally getting something to drink and eat, she perked up a bit. And then she perked up enough to start running around like a lunatic again. But she still wanted her "butterfly" out. They took it out just before they brought her some tea. At which point I started to worry that we would be here overnight, but the Nurse assured me that they were arranging her discharge. Then madam decided she didn't want to go home! So, having dragged her over to her bed and forced her to put her proper clothes back on we finally got to leave at 6pm.

 

But I had promised McDonalds after the hospital, and she was desperate for the toy from the happy meal. So we went into town and I got something to eat at last (I'd had nothing all day!). But madam was disappointed as they didn't give her the current toy, it was an old one. They told her to bring it back unopened to get the proper toy. But we hardly ever go to McDonalds as you need a car to get there...

 

Madam also decided to just play with her toy anyway...

 

Kids are so much easier to please than adults sometimes. We have to go back to the hospital on Friday to get the bandages off, but my parents are back tomorrow, so that won't be a problem.

 

I've really missed them this weekend. I've had loads of great support from all my friends and family, but having my mum and dad around for back-up and support would have been lovely. But that's life, and you just have to deal with what's in front of you. Whether you feel like you're heart is breaking or not.  

 

 

 

on sewing machines and dating sites

I mentioned yesterday that I've been given a new sewing machine. I am really excited about it and plan on giving it a very quick go to see how it works as soon as possible.

 

 

 

Now, my old machine was tiny so this one feels huge in comparison, but I quite like that. It's reassuring somehow. I shall spend this evening having a good peruse of the instructions and hopefully that'll be enough to get me started.

 

As I have discovered, the online sewing community is really friendly and helpful and my friend Tabatha Tweedie has already offered to give me some help if I need it. That link will take you to her write up of the Birmingham sewing meet up which sounded like it was a great fun day. I am very jealous of most of the fabric she brought home with her!

 

Madam has already put in an order for something for me to make for her. Project t-shirt did include me finding a pattern to turn a t-shirt into a dress by just adding on a gathered skirt. I quite like this idea as it was very simple (like my skills) and I have the perfect material to use for it.

 

The book I saw it in also gave good, clear precise instructions with lots of pictures. I debated doing it by hand, but after how long it took me to sew on a pocket, I went off the idea! So the navy t-shirt will have a purple butterfly print skirt added to it soon, I hope.

 

I would really like to start making madam some pretty dresses and me some simple tops (I'm a big tunic fan and I absolutely love the Matilda blouse by Tilly) But I am too big for her pattern :( I need to 1, learn how to make the pattern bigger and 2, make me a smaller so that might not be necessary!

 

I am feeling quite horrid about my general fatness at the moment and keep telling myself I know what to do about it. Yet I don't do it and then I feel bad and then I comfort eat (who invented that? I *hate* them!).

 

Yesterday, in a slightly rush of blood to the head moment, I signed myself up to Match.com! It was a bit of a laugh really, just wanted to feel like I was making an effort to pick myself up out of the doldrums. I realised it's been over a year since I officially separated from himself and although I am not entirely ready for the whole dating scene, I am tired of living like a nun.

 

A girl has needs, you know...

 

I just want to meet a nice chap and have a few dates and see where things might go. You know, someone actually nice. Not that just says what I want to hear... But then I hit on a stumbling block. It is really quite expensive to subscribe and you can do almost nothing if you don't.

 

 

 

Now, I knew I put one of my best photos on (because, hello, who puts the bad ones on). But it seems I am on to a winner. I just can't see the now 27 people who've looked at my profile since yesterday evening! It was 8 by the time I'd gone to bed... I have no idea whether any of them even float my boat.

 

So, are there any truly free dating sites out there?

   

how lipstick can save the day

I had a very strange kind of a day yesterday. It started off badly and improved slowly. But mostly it was about my emotions and how the newspaper story I mentioned in my post on Sunday was still affecting me (effecting? I never know which one to use).

 

It started with my being incapable of listening to some of my favourite songs without crying. Even ones that wouldn't normally make me cry did. I accidentally heard Everybody Hurts by R.E.M. and that just made it so much worse. I'd forgotten it was in the playlist I was listening to. Now, don't get me wrong, I love that song. And I find it usually to be uplifting and reassuring. There are times when some lyrics stand out to me whilst sometimes others do.

 

I latched on to the ones about loneliness yesterday though, and what had started as a mixed up sort of a thing found a focus. And then I ended up talking to the lovely Dolly Clackett (great blog, btw) and she helped me pull myself up a bit.

 

I moved on to a rather fantastic playlist I have which combines shouty, loud, metalish music with happy, upbeat Beach Boys stuff. Made me feel much better. But then we spoke a bit about homesickness (her) and feelings of not being good enough to deserve the fabulous parents we have (both of us). And somehow knowing I'm not alone helps.

 

The desire to be better than I am shapes me. But not in good ways. I don't feel it as a motivator, more as an oppressive dictator. It makes me question all that I do and compare myself mercilessly to others. It's exhausting feeling that way. But it's lovely to have someone to talk to about it. And I hope the more I learn to talk the less it will eat me up.

 

After having my lovely cheering up chat I went to find some lunch (sushi, ftw) and found myself staring down a new lipstick in boots. It reminded me of my favourite colour from my youth. Black Cherry by Rimmel. I used to wear it loads, along with one called Heatherberry.

 

New lipstick is Barry M Lip Paint in 160 (fashion blogging now, who'd a thought it!). I found a mirror and did my face and remembered how much I like doing my make-up. I do it so rarely now. No time, nowhere to go etc. It made me feel empowered to allow myself to have a better day. Such a strange thing to say just about shoving some lippy on, but it gives you a face to show the world when you don't feel like showing it your own.

 

 

ridiculously serious expression optional

 

And I knew my day was going to get better as I was going to get to see lovely V! Ah, how she has a healing effect on me :) Her lovely smiling face and reassuring presence work wonders on me. We managed to pull off a surprise for madam as she had no idea she was going to see her fairy godmother. Fun! 

 

We went to a lovely café for a drink and madam was mainly well behaved. And we had the nice chat type things. And then, sadly, it was time to head off :( But, I got a nice surprise as V had sourced a new (to me) sewing machine! Wonderful. Many thanks also to the lovely R as I believe it came from his mother :)

 

Somehow, in all this, I failed at giving V her pressie from us... Hopefully, I'll see her again before the end of her hols though.   

 

P.S. My mother has just phoned to see if I'm ok! How does she know when I need to hear her voice? How!?  

Bristol on my mind

It's blog 101 and I have mainly been thinking of frightening things to blog about. But I can't think of anything... I have however been in the bosom of my lovely friend L and her fabulous hospitality. She's been like a big sister to me since I met her in Athens 8years or so ago.

 

She is so calming and makes me feel so much more confident in my abilities than I ever do by myself. And since I have arrived in Bristol I have been feeling happier and healthier than I have in a while. I am now seriously considering coming down here to live.

 

I know, I know, the other day I was going on about moving to Canada and now I want to move to Bristol. I view this as a symptom of how unsettled I've been feeling. I have ended up staying at himself's place as L has a full house, but I am actually only sleeping there.

 

This whole discussion about my moving has meant that I've been looking into things like where I'd live and schools etc. (I am quite a one for a snap decision). I mentioned to K that I was thinking about it and he said that we could move into his place and he would find a one bed place for himself! This would be absolutely awesome as it's round the corner from L!

 

And the local school is on the next street...

 

So, I have nothing else to say, but lots of things to think of. I shall update you, later.

it's been six months already

It appears that blogging keeps me sane. I don't like missing a day, it makes me panicky and stressed. This might not be entirely healthy. But I am off my Prozac which probably explains it.

I decided that I had to just come off it and see what happens. I can always start it again if I feel I need to and at least now I'm less worried about asking for more. But I like knowing that my feelings are all my own again and nothing is being fiddled with.

I think the blogging helps me to organise my thoughts in a way that I'd tried to do by writing them out before. But that never seemed to work for me, and I never seemed to be able to keep it up. This way, where I know people are reading what I'm thinking, encourages me to keep sharing.

I've had a couple of people get in touch to say that this blog is helpful to them in small ways and that fills me with joy. I know it's hard to keep going every day and I know it's hard to understand how other people are really feeling.

I think that being able to share some of the things that lead me to my way of thinking and what the procrastination really is can only helpful. My procrastination is the big curse of my life, but I'm much more aware of what it is and how it's actually a way of helping me. It's just a false friend and I need to learn to conquer it.

Because who needs a friend who helps you get into more trouble but makes you feel comfortable about getting there. Even if I never learn to "just do it" as some of those terrifying really organised people advocate, I do want to change and learn and grow. I'd love to at least get better at the whole organising thing!

The one thing I have noticed is that my sense of humour seems to be coming back to me. I use humour as a defence mechanism and always have done, but having not had a reason to just let loose and have fun I've not been just my usual self for ages.

And it's always when something comes back that you realise that it had gone in the first place. A bit like when I had my breakthrough at the end of last year and spent the night dancing around to very loud music (on my headphones). I realised that in the 6 months since I'd moved into that house this was the first time I'd blasted music and just danced.

I'm a dancer in my soul. I used to do ballet as a child and all the way through my teen years I danced in my bedroom, singing into a deodorant bottle pretending I was on stage in front of a massive audience. I still let loose and sang and danced whenever I had the house to myself right up until when I had madam. Then, obviously, I was never alone.

But I would put the music on my headphones as I walked her round for her afternoon nap in her pushchair when she was tiny. And I found myself dancing around the aisles of various shops mouthing the words only I could hear. In fact I'm doing chair dancing even as I type this!

And when she got big enough that I couldn't even have that headspace whilst she had an afternoon nap (and she stopped going in the buggy by the time she was 2) I danced at night when she was in bed, before I went mostly. I would put my headphones in and some slow songs on whilst I got ready for bed and then by the time I was upstairs and putting my pyjamas on I was on to the fast stuff and a quick dance before bed.

Sometimes that quick dance round my bedroom would last a couple of hours!

And then we moved house and somehow, with all the stress of moving and then himself coming home and then leaving again I lost that bit of myself too. All those little bits of yourself that you don't even know were the things that you needed to keep your sanity...

And I lost them. I lost my sense of fun, my music, my inner voice, my sleep patterns, my vague sense of cleanliness, my hope, my confidence. Just little bit by little bit. And I didn't even notice them going until they were lost. And I was in a café crying because I just didn't know how I was going to get through.

And then I was picked up by my friends, who hadn't known how bad it was. By the medical profession who helped me find that even keel again, by the Citizens Advice Bureau who showed me how to start. And by my parents who'd been worried but hadn't known how to approach me (I can be very stubborn).

So, as it is six months since I started on the road to being me again I guess it's time to start being me. No drugs. Just me.

Hello. How're you?

spirituality and my ideas of it

Today, for those of you who follow these things, is Palm Sunday. This is the Sunday before Easter, where everyone goes into a chocolate frenzy. And I will be disappointed yet again as my parents have stopped getting me Easter chocolate and buy me smellies and things instead. (Ungrateful, me?)

But in all seriousness, I do go to church regularly and I do, mostly, try and be a good person. This I suppose is partly to do with the fact that I have been going since I was a child and it's a habit. But mostly because it gives me a sense of peace.

I hadn't been for years though until I met the husband. He went every week and I, naturally, went with him. I found the services in Greece (which is where we were at the time) really long and boring, but the community of the congregants was lovely to be part of. It's this sense of community that I had forgotten.

When I was back in the UK and on my own I didn't really go to church much. I have always loved the Christmas services, Midnight Mass in particular, so I went to those. But I was just drifting, like a lot of people.

It was only really when the husband moved to the UK that I started going more regularly. We got married at my local church which I had always hoped to do. And when your local looks like this:

 

And this:

 

 

 

You'd probably want to use it as a venue too! :) And we thought we'd join the Alpha course as it would be a way for the husband to get to know a few people. We met some lovely people and had a nice time learning a bit more about faith.

 

And then we moved to Scarborough, where our local church was pretty much just across the road from us. I didn't really go though as I was usually at work on a Sunday. Then, when I was pregnant something in me changed. The feeling of something growing inside me was humbling.

 

But it also made me think more about where I had come from and the deeper questions in life. I found a great deal of comfort in knowing there was something/one watching over me and this baby I was growing. If you read my blog post on the breakdown of my relationship you'll know that my pregnancy wasn't a completely happy time for me.

 

And shortly after madam entered my life my grandma left it. I was glad that she had lived to be able to boast of a great-grandchild to her friends at the nursing home where she and my grandpa were staying. And that she'd seen some pictures of her. Just sad that she didn't meet her.

 

I found myself in church on the Sunday after she'd passed and when everyone had left to go and get coffee in the parish hall I just sat, holding my precious madam so tight. Thinking about how we'd only had her christened a week ago and now it was just all sadness.

 

But in that sadness and quiet a peacefulness also stirred. I'm not sure if it really has anything to do with God and I'm sure a lot of people won't believe in it. But it works for me. I can find some peace and inner calm whenever I need it just by having some quiet reflection time in church.

 

It's probably just association, but I like it and I'm quite happy to go to church once a week to get it topped up again. And it makes me happy that I get to go and have a sing (which I've always enjoyed) and that the church community is so welcoming.

 

I don't live in Scarborough any more, I'm back in my home town. But that community came with me here. For I've been accepted into my church family just as if I had never been away. And madam is part of it too.  And even when I moved church (that's another story) I still felt like I belonged.

 

And I suppose if I feel like I belong to something it keeps me anchored when I'm feeling like the whole of my life is spinning around me too fast and I don't know where I'm going.

 

I'm not a massively religious person and I think everyone should be allowed to worship or not as they see fit, but I'll leave you with this as it has a soul soothing effect on me.

 

 

 

 

an empty space

I left the counsellors yesterday feeling emotionally drained. I was right, I did cry. I knew we'd been getting closer and closer to that sore spot that I try so very hard to hide. And I knew that it was her job to poke it. But it still hurt.

 

She and I are dealing with my inaction over all aspects of my life, and finding why I seem incapable of finishing projects. And she kept picking away at it until I knew why it was that I do it. And now, finally, I think I might.

 

I'm afraid of something, that much is obvious from the inaction. But my inability to even complete things that would be of benefit to me is the real sticking point in my life. I am building my wall of things around me, but it's not to keep people out, it's to give me something to fight against. I constantly have an internal battle going on, wherein I hate how I've let things pan out, but then don't finish off fixing them.

 

Because what happens when they're fixed?

 

What happens when it's just me?

 

Do I have to deal with my emotions then?

 

And then, only then, can I admit to the great modern problem. I am alone. My stuff fills my home so it's not empty, my worries fill my head so it's not empty. But nothing can fill that empty space in my heart I hide. I am alone and so, so lonely.

 

I'm a strange mixture really, in most cases I would chose to be by myself, I follow mostly solitary pursuits. Reading, knitting, crochet etc. and I enjoy the inner peace they help me find. But there are moments when all the inner peace in the world wouldn't be as welcome as just someone to give you a hug.

 

This is how the husband worms his way in with me. I need the warmth that he seems to exude. But I'm staying strong. I haven't phoned him once since our return from Bristol at new year. Not even just because hearing his voice is enough for me. I don't want to be in his thrall any more. I want to be strong enough.

 

But now that I can admit to being crushingly lonely I wonder how you fix it?

 

It's not like you can magic it so that all the lovely people you spend time talking to on twitter can actually be with you in your living room (and given how untidy it still is, I don't know where I'd put you all!) And I can't suddenly not be a parent so that I could go to more of the social activities that interest me in an evening.

 

So what is the answer? I'm afraid I don't know yet. But I think knowing the problem might at least start to help me look...

a poorly procrastinator says what...

Today is not going very well for me, I'm really feeling under-the-weather. I've spent a couple of hours waiting to see an emergency doctor and get some antibiotics for this stupid cough of mine.

 

Only it's not just a cough, I have a fairly high temperature and I've spent most of the morning trying not to fall asleep where I've been standing/sitting.

 

Fortunately for me we are at my parents house today so they are madam sitting and I am in bed. As mentioned I've been struggling not to drop off for the majority of the day, but now I'm in bed, I'm wide (ish) awake...

 

The other pain about me suddenly being unwell today is that we're supposed to be going to the Chinese for a birthday tea for my older brother. It's sort of a "congratulations on the new job" meal as well. So far I haven't eaten anything today so I'm hoping by tonight I might be able to manage some soup and maybe a chicken dish of some description. I'll be so disappointed if I have to stay here in bed and miss it!

 

My little girl has been playing nursemaid for me and making sure I have everything I need. It's incredibly sweet to have her clucking around me, but I'm also glad my parents have now made her stay downstairs whilst I rest.

 

I'm all ache-y and spaced out, oh, and what do you know. I think I might have that sleep after all...

 



...love is all you need

Having written and published my post about hoarding I have been overwhelmed by people who I barely know offering me help and support with clearing up.

I am so grateful to these lovely people and truly humbled by their kindness. It constantly amazes me that no matter how much we read in the media about the depths of human depravity out there, there is always the opposite end of that spectrum too. 

I am hoping to keep my posts slightly shorter than that monster one I posted the other day, mainly as I know people will get bored of my whining fairly quickly! But also in the hope that I might get into the habit of posting fairly regularly. 

I have now worked out a few things about how blogging works (with a few tips from my twitter friends) and will hopefully get settled into a routine fairly quickly.

I'll write a post on why I started this blog in the first place as it may explain a few things, but for now adieu.